Charters Towers was founded in 1872 during the gold rushes and developed into a thriving reef-mining centre. In 1877, with a population approaching 4,000, it was declared a municipality and, by the 1880s, it was one of the major Australian gold reefing fields. During its heyday in the 1890s, Charters Towers was the second town of Queensland, with a population approaching 30,000. Since the nearest major town, Rockhampton, was a long boat journey away, all the services necessary to civilisation in a very large area of Queensland were concentrated in Charters Towers. It was perhaps this isolation that fostered the nickname“The World”.

The boom of the 1880s, with an extraordinary influx of British capital, involving about £5 million, had transformed the Queensland economy. The flood of money and employers hungry for profit encouraged the growth of strong trade unions. When relations between employers and workers became strained, the labour movement often blamed the interests of British capital. From here, it was a short step for many workers to advocate for a republic and separation.

Support for monarchy tumbles only 30% of people “interested” in wedding of Harry and Meghan. Stay home, wash the car! Thrilled to be part of @RepublicStaff Republic conf tomorrow 'The royal wedding is escapist nonsense', British republicans say #auspolhttps://t.co/AVfEeSPUfE

A republican association was formed in Charters Towers in 1890, with a platform similar to the Bulletin’s and, within months it had a membership of over 300. For the Australasian Republican Association, the word "republic" meant the establishment of individual and political rights. The editor of their journal, the Australian Republican was one of the great republican firebrands of the era, Frederick Vosper.

'... A grand United Republic under the Southern Cross which, profiting by the experience and errors of others, shall be as pure and perfect as it is possible for things human to be.'

Vosper believed republicanism was an expression of the civic individual and not subservient to factional politics or religion.

On my mother’s side, our family has lived in Charter Towers since the 1890s, resulting in a town with cousins as far as the eye could see. It was the egalitarianism and mateship of this north Queensland goldfield that seemed to absorb me growing up in Charters Towers. Probably came from my family’s long mining heritage. Whatever way, I always had the strong feeling that "jack is as good as his master".

As we were such a small Year 12 group, we customarily shared the event with the local private schools. The main hall in the North Queensland country town was called the Horticultural Hall, which brings up all sorts of rural images. The other main dance hall in the town was where we learnt and practised all our dance moves for the big night, and reflected the interesting divisions in the old goldfield community. The Miners’ Union Hall was referred to by its abbreviation: MU Hall. However, in a collective loss of memory, townsfolk didn’t seem to remember how important and influential the association had been in the 19th Century and commonly referred to it as the "emu" hall.

Leading up to our big event, it was all about cakes and long trains and dresses. This was all the girls could talk about. However, for the Year 12 girls, the evening was to become a conflict of almost irreconcilable proportions — do I go to the formal or watch the royal wedding on TV at home?

A long time ago – on 10 November 1977 to be precise – I remember seeing Star Wars for the first time. I was 12 at the time. My first republican moment was played out within the confines of the aptly named Regent Theatre, with a working-class community cheering on the successful overthrow of the Empire by the rebels.

For me, it was the Empire versus the Republic — with the rebels being the good guys fighting against the evil Empire.

We sat in the dark envelope of our town’s only theatre — my parents on one side and younger brother on the other. The theatre still had hessian low-slung seats arranged in long rows. It was like a beach scene at night without any water. Not that we had ever been to the beach. North Queensland beaches in the 1970s were basically mud, mangroves and sharks, with the added thrill of a high chance of being stung by jellyfish.

The lights went down, the fanfare came up and then that Star Destroyer emerged on the screen. As a kid, the movie was just jaw-dropping. Science fiction was nothing new for us in Charters Towers, but we had no idea how revolutionary the Star Wars space opera would be.

Built during the gold-rush era of the late 19th Century, the Regent Theatre stood firm on the periphery of the British Empire. But now it held a republican people cheering on the rebels struggle to overthrow rule by an evil Emperor.

Ever since John Kerr sacked the Whitlam Government, at the tender age of 18 years old, my sights were set on the republic. An Australian Republic: Revisiting the 1998 Constitutional Convention https://t.co/hLf2swSkUb@IndependentAus#auspol

By 1981, the Regent Theatre had become a skating rink. Still, the people attended, although oblivious to the edifice of monarchy surrounding them. Meanwhile, audiences worldwide paused as the fairy tale coach, replete with its Cinderella, rolled up to St Paul’s Cathedral steps and the "Queen of the People’s Hearts" emerged in the crushed cream creation. Everyone gasped and winced and laughed when Diana repeated her bridegroom’s name incorrectly.

Our high school formal didn’t quite match the 2 million people lining the streets of Britain but, for us, it was a defining moment. That night the girls declared for us rather than a privileged few on the other side of the world. They stood with their own Charters Towers princes rather than watch the royal wedding on TV.

I can also chuckle at this and still revel in the #RoyalWedding hoopla. I am 100% committed to an #AusRepublic because I also know that alllllll this wedding business would still go on, whether or not Australia is in the Commonwealth. https://t.co/kPqzbdxXxS

Australians have always been able to separate the cult of celebrity and big royal events from constitutional matters.

“It’s an insult to the intelligence of young Australians to say that because they enjoy watching royal weddings, they want a royal to be the Australian head of state,” he said. “They might also enjoy reading about Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, but no one is advocating they be the head of state.”

Of course, this is all a bit of fun. Playing dress-up and pretending that fairytales are real. However, as I’ve argued previously, there is no place for princes in modern Australia. The public repudiation of previous Prime Minister Tony Abbott’sknights and dames decision showed that Australia has moved on from the old colonial way of thinking.

For us in Australia, royalty only ever visits us from somewhere else, from across the seas. It’s not something that lives with us. Royalty comes and royalty goes, but it is never a part of us.